Holiday
by Ideas265
Summary: It was the bustling streets of New York when it happened. On top of a skyscraper, twenty three year old Lovino Vargas was stuck between two options: Jump or live another day.


**Don't own Hetalia**

It was the bustling streets of New York when it happened. On top of a skyscraper, twenty three year old Lovino Vargas was stuck between two options: Jump or live another day.

"Sir, I know it gets depressing around the holidays, but it doesn't mean you can end your life!" yelled a British policeman on the ground through a megaphone. "Don't end it this way!"

The Italian ignored him as he inched closer and closer to the edge. The rush of air and adrenaline made him dizzy, and he almost felt like collapsing. 230 feet, not exactly the most painless jump, but it gets the job done. Before Lovino could step off, he heard his brother's, Feliciano's, voice call to him from below.

"Don't do it, _fratello_!" he cried into the megaphone. "Don't leave me…"

"Stay with us, _mi tomate_," yelled the Spaniard, Antonio.

Hearing their voices made Lovino's mind hazier than pea soup. He wanted to tell them sorry. He wanted to tell them that it'd be okay. But no, instead these were the words that shot out his mouth.

"Stay out of this you two!" he warned. "I'm going solo!"

"Don't do anything hasty! Can't we just talk it out?" asked Antonio. "You're not alone. It wasn't your fault." Lovino shook his head before covering his ears. Antonio was just saying that. It _was _his fault—all of it.

"Please…come back to us," Feli sniffled before losing his voice. Antonio wrapped the Italian into a hug before crying as well.

"Your brother and friend don't want you to carry on. Give it up and go back to them!"

"What would you know?!" Lovi spat at the officer. "What would anyone know?! I'm a failure at whatever I do. In a world of over a billion people, my death's not that significant. No one would ever remember Lovino Romano Vargas!"

_Screw this_, he thought as he jumped off. The reactions from below were quick. The officer threw his megaphone away as he ran around, arms outstretched as if he was going to catch him. Feli mouthed "NO" as he tried to claw his way out of the Spaniard's hug. Antonio held the Italian in place, trying to turn his head around so he wouldn't see the impact.

Lovino, himself, was going through the slow-mo. He closed his eyes as he pictured his brother and friend's smile one last time…

Wait, shouldn't he be dead already? Let's go down the checklist: Heart's still beating, lung's still doing their job, brain still in one piece… Daringly, Lovino opened his eyes. If he had fallen, he would've smashed face-first onto the concrete. Someone was holding him by his ankles.

"Don't worry, dude! I got you," said someone with an American accent, Alfred. Pulling the limb Italian up, he slapped him in the face. "What the heck was that for?! Are you really willing to end your life because of something so small?" Now it was Lovino's turn to do the slapping—well, he punched the American in the face instead.

"Feli counted on me, and I let him down. It proves how much of a failure I am!"

"Dude, no one's perfect in this world! I make mistakes; Feli makes mistakes, heck, that Brit officer makes mistakes! It's not the failures or mistakes that define us, Vargas. How we deal with them is what makes us stronger. Stop trying to kill yourself, bro. You're not alone. So…come back to us."

Lovino looked at the Alfred before looking at the ground.

"I'm still going to jump."

"Then, I'll make sure you won't die alone. Feli's probably going to kill himself if you do anyway," he added.

"Won't the people you know and love miss you?"

"Heck yeah, they would. My bro would cry to the end of his days, my weird French cousin would ditch his creepy accent, and my lover…my lover would never forgive me. They're going to curse over my grave until the day they die."

Lovino looked at Alfred, shocked, but this expression went back to plainness.

"Same for you, bro. Feli's going to be emotionally scarred from this—if he hasn't already—and your lover would drink himself stupid every day, wondering why you jumped."

"I'm not going to jump," croaked Lovi, eyes spilling with emotions. This was the first time Alfred had ever seen the feisty Italian cry. Patting his back, Alfred whispered,

"Let's get to the others. Your bro looks like he's going to bust Toni's head."

"Sounds just like him," Lovi smiled faintly, eyes a bit glazed as he felt warm numbness spread through him. As Alfred turned around and walked to the building's elevator, Lovino felt himself tip back.

A shrill voice echoed; "NO LOVINO!" It was faint, but Alfred could hear a splat from below.

A think smile forming as he went down the elevator, he took out the mission card that was tucked in his pocket.

_Lovino Romano Vargas—23  
Make sure he sleeps on clouds  
—Oliver_

"Better clear my counterpart before he starts blabbing," he chuckled, getting his poisons ready.

* * *

**what an odd twist from 2p America...**

**no idea what I was thinking as I wrote this**


End file.
